


There's Always More To Halloween

by whisperedmemories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Carving Pumpkins is an Art, EWE, Endearing Insults, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedmemories/pseuds/whisperedmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of Potterverse one-shots taking place on or around Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can We Please?

“They won’t even be able to tell! And all the other kids are doing it!” Teddy set his jaw in such a manner that reminded Remus eerily of Sirius in his younger days, usually right before he’d go off and get himself into trouble again. 

And just like Sirius, Remus was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop Teddy. He sighed heavily, just about to admit defeat when he heard his husband’s voice from beside him. “Now now, Teddy. Don’t give your father a hard time. Those other children out there are wearing costumes, and as we all know very well, you are insisting on using magic.”

“But they won’t even know!” Teddy huffed, his usually blue hair turning a deep shade of red. “I’m not stupid, Sirius. And even uncle Harry has said I’m better at controlling my magic than he was at my age. And he’s a legend.”

Remus shared an exasperated look with Sirius. “He’s been going at it all morning about this, Sirius. I’m at my wits’ end. Leave it to Harry to put something like this in the boy’s head.”

“Nobody put it in my head!” Teddy insisted. “It’s just not fair. And I won’t even do much. Just tweak my appearance a bit. Nobody will know it’s me and on the off chance they did, we can just tell them it’s a really good costume. Please, dad? I promise I won’t cause any trouble. It’s just, I’ve been really good this whole week and this is one of the only chances I get to be someone else and it’s actually appropriate.”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling Teddy’s behavior that past week. Sure enough, he could pinpoint several times that week that Teddy had been… enthusiastically helpful. Even more so than usual, he realized with a groan.

However, before he even had a chance to speak, Sirius had apparently already decided to allow it. “Just because it’s Halloween…” he was saying. “What costume did you have in mind?”

The beam that Teddy gave them was enough to quell any hesitations Remus had had about letting his son go through with this. It was only one day, after all. What would it hurt?

“Well,” Teddy started, glancing hopefully at Sirius. “I was actually hoping that you would help me. You see, Uncle Harry and I were talking, and Ron was there and he said something about your animagus form, and well…”

Remus could already see where this was going.

“I think it would be really cool if I went as Little Red and you were the Big Bad Wolf!” Teddy finished in a rush. The smile returned, as did the blue hair.

“Why don’t you bring Antares?” Remus found himself saying. “I’m sure he’d love the exercise, and…”

But Teddy was already ten thoughts ahead of him. “You can bring him! I want you to be with us too, dad, and that way Sirius could be a part of my costume. It would be perfect. Nobody would question it and you could come with us—even if it was just to supervise.” 

And that way Sirius wouldn’t have children be shooed away from him nor would he have to suffer the blatant glances and stares. Even though his name had been cleared long ago, people were still hesitant seeing a former prisoner of Azkaban as their next-door neighbor. Whether the looks were justified or not, Remus had to agree that it was easier for Sirius to be out and about with their son in his animagus form. Save everyone the headache. 

Another sigh. “Very well.”

The mischievous glint in Teddy’s eyes was mirrored by Sirius as well now. The two chatted animatedly about the costume, Teddy first explaining how he would change his appearance to resemble his version of Little Red Riding Hood. Remus would never admit it out loud, but it actually was a rather brilliant idea. 

And there was no full moon on Halloween this year, which meant that he and Sirius were actually able to go trick-or-treating with their son, instead of sending him off with Harry or his friends and hoping they behaved. 

And besides, he was sure Harry had better things to do than babysit his godson, no matter how much Harry adored Teddy. And they all knew he did; he would drop everything to help out with Teddy if Remus or Sirius even so much as suggested it. The three of them could drop by Harry’s place later if he was handing out candy this year. 

Teddy raced upstairs, shouting something along the lines of, “It’s going to be really great, dad! Just wait, I’ll go get ready. I already have what I’m going to wear all picked out!”  
Sirius chuckled, watching the boy disappear into his room and shut the door. “He’s a great kid, Remus. You can tell he’s thought a lot about this.”

It really would be all right, Remus realized. This wasn’t just some hastily thrown together plan. It wasn’t often that they got to do things like this, as a family. And it was Halloween, after all. All this was worth it if it meant making Teddy and Sirius smile.

“As long as I don’t have to dress up as grandmother.”

Sirius howled.


	2. The Art of Carving Pumpkins

“You’re going to cut it off!” 

Harry sighed, exasperated. “I’ve done this before. I’m not going to cut it off. Just—if you just— _stop_. For a minute. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Draco sneered, but relented, handing Harry the carving knife. “If I lose a hand because of this Potter, I’m never going to forgive you.”

“You won’t need to,” Harry replied, turning the pumpkin around so that was at a better angle, “because it’ll be fine. Nothing will happen, and you won’t lose your hand. Now stop being dramatic and watch me, okay? You were the one who wanted to do this the muggle way, anyway. So pay attention.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Draco snapped. “I don’t want to do this the muggle way anymore. Let’s just do it with magic like we always have.”

Harry eyes met Draco’s grey ones. “We’re doing it this way,” he said, and jammed the knife into the top of the pumpkin.

Somehow, he managed to cut the crown off without making a fool of himself. As it so happened, Harry _hadn’t_ had much experience carving pumpkins by hand. Sure, he’d watched Dudley carve them every year when he was a kid, but he’d never actually been allowed to carve them himself. And Harry hardly thought that Dudley’s “artistic hand”—as Aunt Petunia had once put it—was anything to write home about.

But Draco didn’t need to know that. And when he’d come into the living room that afternoon with three pumpkins and insisted that they carve them without magic this year because, “Come on, Potter. Honestly. How hard could it be?” Harry couldn’t refuse. 

They both grimaced as Harry set the knife aside and reached into the pumpkin, scooping out the seeds and goopy insides and plopping it unceremoniously onto the newspaper strewn about on the table. 

Draco stared at the mess. “There is no way I’m touching that.” He said, with a finality in his voice that told Harry it would be absolutely pointless to try and argue.

“Fine. I’ll scoop them out then. But you have to carve at least one of them. Maybe if you put half as much effort into carving these as you did drawing pictures of me in third year, we could end up with some pretty creative stuff.”

He didn’t even need to turn around and look at Draco to know the other was crinkling his nose at the backhanded compliment. “Shut up.”

With the worst of it removed, Harry shifted the pumpkin over to Draco. “Here. You take this one while I scoop out the others. I guess just do whatever you want. You can use the other carving knife—the one in the drawer. But no magic.” 

Draco situated himself across from Harry, chewing his lip thoughtfully for a few moments before getting to work. He made a few hesitant, jerky cuts and it took all of Harry’s willpower not to comment on it and instead focus his own task.

Although he couldn’t help but glance up a few times anyway, watching Draco and convincing himself that he wasn’t doing it because he was drawn to the way Draco’s hands moved or how his eyebrows knitted when he was concentrating hard on something, a slight frown playing across his features. No. He was only doing it to make absolutely sure that Draco wouldn’t try and use magic. That was all. Really.

Harry was just finishing cleaning up the mess on the table when Draco stood abruptly, shoving the pumpkin away with a scowl. “This is ridiculous. Why do muggles even waste time on this? We could have finished these hours ago!”

“Draco, it hasn’t even been that long.” Harry stepped over beside him, finally getting a glimpse of Draco’s carving job and concealed his chuckle with a cough. It was painfully evident that Draco hadn’t done anything like this before. The lines of the eyes were jagged and uneven, and the mouth was lopsided. There was some unidentifiable marking above the right eye that Harry couldn’t even begin to guess at what it was supposed to be. “It’s… er… lovely,” He managed.

“It’s hideous.” Without another comment on the matter, Draco whipped out his wand. “Incendi-“

“Expelliarmus!”

The wand fell to the ground. They stared at each other, the ghost of a sneer on Draco’s face. “What are you _doing_ , Scarhead? I was going to burn it. Just—“ he gestured wildly at the offending pumpkin, “Look at it! This was a bad idea. Let’s just use magic for the other two and forget this ever happened.”

Harry’s eyes flicked to the pumpkin, and suddenly it all started to make sense. The lopsided smile, the circles, the mark above the right eye. “I-It’s me? You were trying to make… me?”

“It’s nothing,” Draco replied, shortly. He turned away, and Harry knew he had a good five seconds before Draco would storm off and go pout somewhere, so he acted quickly, catching his boyfriend’s wrist in one swift movement.

Draco whipped around, angrily, just as Harry leaned up and captured his mouth in one gentle kiss.

It worked. Draco’s eyes widened and he took a step back, but calmed down almost instantly. He glanced at Harry’s hand clasped around his wrist, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find his words.

Harry spoke instead. “Let’s carve the other ones together, alright?”

They put all three of the pumpkins out on the front porch that night, despite Draco’s protests. “I did it on purpose,” Draco finally decided. “As it so happens, I think it’s perfect. I can’t help that it looks just like your ugly face.”

Harry just laughed. “You love me.”

For good measure, he let up a bit on the no magic rule and Draco charmed the pumpkins to light up. A green light in the one he carved, red lights in the others. 

As they watched the little magic fires flickering, Harry had to admit that while there were things he wanted to learn to do more of without magic, maybe carving pumpkins wasn’t one of them.


	3. A (Mostly) Pleasant Interruption

They had appeared at Harry’s door suddenly and without warning, carrying boxes upon boxes of things that Hermione had brought along in that bottomless beaded handbag of hers. It wouldn’t have been a problem, except they had interrupted one of Harry’s quiet moments with Draco— they had been sitting beside each other on the couch, Harry reading a book he had found stashed on one of the bookshelves, and Draco reading the latest edition of Seeker Weekly. It had been nice.

Then Hermione nearly barreled down the door with Ron muttering at her about not needing all the stuff she had insisted on bringing with them.

“We’re going to decorate,” Hermione explained, setting the box she was carrying on the table, “because I just _know_ that you and Malfoy won’t. You two are hopeless with that kind of stuff. But it’s Halloween and Ron and I were talking, and I absolutely _refuse_ to let you go another year with those half-hearted decorations you put up every October. It’s ridiculous, honestly.”

Harry cast a pitiful look at Ron, who shrugged. “You know how she is, mate.”

He did. To pass the time as Hermione unloaded her bag of boxes, Harry glanced around the kitchen and living room looking for Draco, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably skulked off to their bedroom like he always did when Ron and Hermione came over, but everyone knew he’d be back once he’d prepared and deemed himself presentable.

“If you want me to be nice,” Draco had sneered one time Harry brought it up, “Then you have to give me at least ten minutes. Probably more. I wasn’t brought up to be pleasant to their sort. I have to prepare myself.”

Harry had given him a pointed look. Draco had raised his eyebrows. It was progress, Harry decided then, so he’d let it go. He appreciated the effort, anyway.

“What is that?” Harry asked, as Hermione produced a rather large decoration from one of the boxes.

“It’s her favorite, mate. She really loves you to be bringing it over here, you know,” Ron said.

“It’s something my parents got Ron and me when we first got married. I don't think you ever saw it. A rather odd wedding gift, if I’m going to be honest, but I suppose that comes with having a wedding in October. It’s an animated skeleton. From a Muggle shop. It even moves and says selected sentences from this list—” She shoved a piece of paper into Harry’s hand. “—Here. Have a look at it if you’d like. But just so you know, after the reception, George charmed the thing when my parents weren’t looking so it actually talks on its own now. So don't be frightened when he says things that aren’t on the list.”

Harry stared blankly down at it. Sure enough, it was full of phrases like, ‘Happy Halloween’, ‘Have a Spooky Night!’ ‘Watch out for the werewolves’. Sirius would have a heyday with that one, Harry thought, smiling to himself.

“Is Malfoy even around?” Ron asked.

Harry nodded. “In the bedroom. You know how he gets.”

“A handful, that one,” Ron agreed. “Out of all the people in the world, Harry, the one you chose just had to be him didn’t it? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, what with sixth year and all... but I am.”

Hermione finished setting the skeleton up outside on the front door and returned, handfuls of fake cobwebs tangled in her arms. “These are for the stairs,” she said, handing some to Harry and some to Ron. “You both can do that.”

Ron paled. “Hermione, you know that…”

Hermione looked at the cobwebs, and then back at Ron. A fond smile flicked across her face. “Right, of course. I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ll help Harry with this part then. You can rummage around in that box on the table and find those cat decorations. One of them lights up and I think it would look lovely in the living room just near the window.”

Hermione came over beside Harry, showing him how she wove the cobwebs around the banister and then stepping back while he had a go at it. It was a lot easier than he had expected, really.

“So,” Hermione said, uncharacteristically quietly.

“You’re having another child?” Harry jumped in, eyes wide. “I mean, I’m happy for you, really, but I thought last time you said that two was enough, so…”

Hermione blanched. “Goodness, no!” she exclaimed, “Two is quite a handful as it is. I don’t know how Molly does it. You’ve got to hand it to her. What I want to say though is… well… Harry. I know I’ve been saying it every year for the past however-long, but…”

Harry cut her off again. “No, Hermione. If it’s about how Draco and I are poorly matched, or how I could do better, or how you don’t like my life choices, then I don't want to hear it. I’ve spent my whole life dealing with people who have wanted to kill me. I’m not set up for an easy life, but at least with Draco, well… we challenge each other. We make it work.”

Hermione looked physically pained. “That- That’s not what I was going to say this time.” She said, and then in a rush, “I was going to say you’re right.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“You’re right. About you two being good for each other. I see you two together and I think… well… if anyone can match Draco Malfoy for passion and stubbornness, it’s you. I still don’t like him. I can’t _stand_ him, even. That will never change, especially with everything that's come out of his mouth that I’m sure he’ll never regret one bit. He's rude and vile. And arrogant. But when it comes to you, well… I don’t think you’d be as well matched with anyone else.”

Harry nodded, still shocked. Was Hermione really… was she really saying she approved? Well, not _approved_ —but… understood?

“Ron wanted to bring the kids over today, but I told him maybe next time. Or on Halloween, like we always do. You have candy at least, don't you?”

“Loads,” Harry replied, grimly. “More than we have room for. We have so much it doesn't even all fit in the bowl. Draco’s been eating some—quite a bit, actually—and we still have more than we could ever need. The kids that come to our door will just get handfuls of the stuff. Narcissa owls us candy, you see. It’s coming out of our ears. So, if you ever want some…” he trailed off.

Hermione laughed, and Harry relaxed. He’d missed that, just Ron and Hermione being happy and being themselves and being with Harry. Now that his two best friends were married with children, he didn't get to spend as much time with them as he used to. So having them here helping him, happy, was more than he could have asked for.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Harry had barely finished with the cobwebs before Hermione was setting up candles. Ron was still placing cats around the house, just about one in each corner, it looked like.

“How have you been?” Harry found himself asking. “I’m sure things are really busy over at your place.”

Hermione nodded. “Very. But we manage. Ron does a lot with the kids, really. I assume he knows how to handle them so well from being one of seven children himself. He knows all the right things to say and can calm them in an instant on the rare occasions where I’ve lost my temper.”

“Weasley, Granger.”

All three of them turned as Malfoy strode into the kitchen, snatching an apple off the counter and taking a bite.

“Malfoy.”

Draco’s lips twitched, and Harry knew he was suppressing a sneer. He swallowed. “What are you doing here?” The question wasn’t hostile, but Harry still knew that Draco had been less than pleased by their interruption.

“We’re decorating,” Ron said. “You two are hopeless at it, and we have loads of extras.”

“I told them they could take some of our extra candy,” Harry added.

He expected Draco to argue, but instead he just nodded. “You know, we are capable of decorating ourselves. Maybe we just don’t like to.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Malfoy, I know quite well that you happen to really like Halloween. I don’t think for a second that you wouldn't want to decorate for a holiday that you enjoy.”

She had a point. Everyone knew it.

Draco was silent, contemplative. He took another bite of the apple and studied the three of them. “Carry on, then,” he said, after a minute.

Hermione smiled. “Good. Then you can help.” She reached out and all but shoved one of the boxes at him. “I’ve got loads of stuff in here, take your pick.”

Draco took a step back and peered over the edge of the box. “What is all this?”

“Stuff that’s going to end up around your house, apparently,” Ron told him.

Draco huffed and started to rummage through the boxes until he found what he was supposedly looking for: a pop-up board of a haunted house with a switch on the side. When he turned it on, it made thundering sounds. Harry thought that Draco must have assumed nobody was watching, because he flicked the button on and off a couple more times just to hear the sound effect again, smiling softly.

Harry looked away, hoping that Draco hadn’t noticed his staring. The moment he realized he was being watched, Harry knew he would stop and make some hostile or sarcastic comment meant to ruffle someone’s feathers. So instead, he busied himself with setting the gravestone up in the front yard and putting a couple of the fake pumpkins around it.

By the time they had emptied all of Hermione’s boxes, it was well past dark. She brushed herself off, taking Ron’s hand with one of hers and gesturing to the house with the other. “There, you see? Look how much we can accomplish when we all work together. This place actually looks ready for Halloween.”

Harry cast a sweeping glance at the decorations. They were brilliant, really. And there was no way he could have done any of it without Ron or Hermione.

Even Draco seemed impressed, although Harry knew he’d never admit it. Instead, he stood, disappeared into the next room and returned with a huge box of candy. He shoved it into Ron’s arms. “For your children,” he told him. “I’m sure they’d like a little extra on Halloween, not like you could afford it. Besides, Potter and I will never be able to eat all of this. It’s charity, I suppose.”

Ron looked like he was going to argue, but a pleading look from Harry quieted him. When he spoke, he sounded disgruntled. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Be sure to bring them over on Halloween. Stop by, I mean. It’s not because I want you over, I just have lots of extra candy. Mother owls them and I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s too much. It might as well go to someone who needs it.”

Hermione nodded. “Sure.” She turned to Harry, giving him a hug. “Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks for all your help, you guys. I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, mate. What are best friends for?” Ron handed Hermione the box he was holding, and she packed everything back into her bag.

“Take care of yourself okay, Harry?” Ron asked, eyes shifting to Malfoy. “And Happy Halloween to both of you. I’m glad we were able to stop by and help out a bit.”

“I am too.” Harry grinned.

And then, just as quickly as they had come, Ron and Hermione were gone.

Harry turned to Draco. “You know, Hermione told me something today. At first, I thought she was going to say they were expecting.”

Draco grimaced. “As if the world needs yet _another_ Weasel.”

Harry shoved him, lightly. “That’s not where I was going. I want to tell you what she said.” Once he was sure Draco was listening, he said. “Hermione gave us her approval. I assume it was from Ron, too. It just… well… it made me happy. You are really part of this, you know. Part of us. Our group. Even if you don’t always like each other.”

Draco eyed the decorations. “More like even if we don’t _ever_ like each other.” He sighed heavily. “…But if that means they come over every year to make our house look haunted and decent, I suppose I can learn to live with that.”


	4. Not Ideal, But Still Perfect (All Things Considered)

Remus was on edge. Truly, if he were to admit it, he’d been on edge all month, but now that Halloween was here and the full moon was _tonight_ , he was beside himself. He’d been sitting quietly in his chair near the fireplace for the past hour, but he couldn’t even remember a single word of anything he’d read. 

“Of all the nights it could have fallen on.” He sighed, finally breaking the silence. “It just had to be tonight.”

Sirius came over then with a tray, a mug and vial balanced precariously on it. “Last one for the week.” 

Remus tried not to wince; that had to be an accident just waiting to happen. He appreciated the gesture though, so he opted not to chastise Sirius for it.

“The boy will understand. You know he does.”

“But it’s Halloween, Sirius. I know Teddy copes extraordinarily well with my... affliction, but there are thirty-one days in the month and yet the one night I want to share a special evening with my son, _this_ happens. I knew it wasn’t fair to have a child. No one should have to deal with someone like me as a father.”

“Oh enough of that. You complain enough for the both of us. I swear, Remus. Teddy loves being with Harry. The group of them will have great fun. I’m sure he’d much rather be with his cool godfather than his old fathers anyway. They’re both great boys. They’ll have a blast together.”

Remus took the mug and tipped the vial into it. “Thank you. I suppose I’ve had worse nights. Nights without this,” he gestured to the mug. “And without you. I couldn’t have picked better company.”

“No, you couldn't.” Sirius smirked. “Now drink up.”

“What will we tell Teddy?”

“He can count. He’s been tracking the moon just as carefully as we have for years now. Trust me when I say he knows.”

“Knows what?”

The two glanced over to see Teddy standing in the doorway, bag over his shoulder.

“About tonight.” Remus answered. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go trick or treating with Harry this year. And please bring Antares with you too, if you go. My… well… I’m already going to have Sirius’ animagus form and I don’t need the excitement of two dogs around tonight. I’m much too old for that.”

“Right. I’ll take him,” Teddy agreed, striding over and grabbing the leash out of the basket near the door. He whistled once, smiling as Antares’ fluffy black form pranced over to him.

“I’m terribly sorry, I know…” Remus began.

“Dad. Really.” Teddy shook his head. “You apologize every time. I’ll just make sure to get double the candy for us to share tomorrow. And I’ll drag Harry to the scariest houses. No worries. Just take care of yourselves.”

“Don’t worry, Remus is in good paws.”

“Sirius that was ridiculous. Don’t. Just don’t.”

Teddy hooked up the leash and came back around. “I was going to head to Harry’s anyway. He said Draco tried to make Halloween cupcakes and they were a complete disaster so he wants me to help him eat them while Draco’s out of the house. I'll just ask him if I can stay for trick or treating as well.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Uncle Harry’s great fun anyway,” Teddy went on. “He knows all the best places to be and he always takes me to the Leaky afterwards.”

Remus’ eyes went wide. “The Leaky— The Leaky Cauldron? Harry takes you?” He shot a glance at Sirius, but the other seemed less than phased.

Instead, Sirius _laughed_. “Good man.”

To avoid from saying anything more, Remus let out another heavy sigh and drank his potion. It tasted horrid, but at least it did the trick. He was grateful enough for that.

No sooner had Teddy wolfed down a piece of toast than he was up and heading out the door, Antares trailing behind him, tail wagging excitedly at the prospect of going for a walk.

“Be safe,” Remus allowed himself to comment. “Don’t go anywhere without Harry. What are you doing for your costume?”

“Transforming, of course!” Teddy called back. He was out the door in a flash.

For the second time that day, Remus gave Sirius an exasperated look. “Did you tell him he could transform tonight? Sirius, last time—that was a _one-time thing_!”

“Come now, Remus. The boy’s old enough now. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It was bad enough when I would turn around and Tonks had transformed herself into some ridiculous… and now my _son_. I don’t want to make a habit of walking into the room and seeing someone else’s face in place of Teddy’s on a regular basis.”

“Halloween only comes once a year. Let him have some fun.”

It was a losing battle. It always was. Remus just had to admit his defeat. “Only on Halloween.”

“That’s all I said!”

Nightfall came all too soon. Remus could feel it under his skin and he was pacing. They had a plan; they always did, but it didn’t really make it all that much better.

Following the rising of the full moon, Remus would retire to the garage and lock himself in. Sirius would transform into his animagus form and join him, and Remus would painlessly sleep the night away, Sirius’ warm side pressed up against his. It wasn’t so bad when he had wolfsbane, and now that he had a steady supply of it, his situation was a bit easier to cope with. Less exhausting, at least.

“Perhaps we should go now, Remus,” Sirius was saying. It sounded far away, as if someone was trying to talk to him underwater, and Remus realized all too abruptly that he had ceased pacing and was now pressed up against the window, the glass cool against his fingers.

He meant to respond, but all that came out was something between a cough and a snarl. He started panting heavily. Distantly, he was aware of a hand grasping his, tugging him to what he could only assume was the garage.

Good.

They’d both done this enough times for it to be routine. Remus nearly tripped down the stairs but he was held fast. A click.

And the pain tore through him like the wild animal. He moaned, trembling, as his fingers grasped at the air. He lurched forward and shuddered, the only relief through it all was the dog now pressing up against him, its breathing and heartbeat steady despite everything in Remus that screamed _hurt_.

And then the worst of it was over.

Remus chuffed, settling himself down and curling up, the warmth an ever-constant reminder that he wasn’t alone for this. Never would be, as long as Sirius was around. He rested his long face on his paws as the moon bore down at them both through the window in the garage door.

It was going to be a long night. Outside, he heard the excited chatter of people bustling about, all undoubtedly excited that the full moon had fallen on Halloween. All the muggles and wizards, at least. Remus most definitely did not appreciate such a coincidence.

This year, their house lights would be off. No handing out candy tonight, and as disappointing as it was, at least Remus didn’t have to suffer this by himself. Eyelids heavy, Remus allowed himself to drift off, the comfort and the potion working well enough to allow him to sleep through it all.

He woke the next day, exhausted but thankfully unharmed. One glance at Sirius told him that he was fine as well.

“You look like you need a shower and a warm cup of tea.” Sirius said, once he realized Remus was awake. “Come. I’ll make us some.”

Remus took the outstretched hand, and they spent the better half of the morning sitting around the fireplace, eating candy and listening to Teddy recount the events with Harry.

As far as things go, Teddy had had a much more exciting night, but Remus wouldn’t trade a quiet evening in with Sirius for the world.


	5. Sweets and Pancakes

“Marshmallow… _pancakes?_ ”

Harry nodded. “That’s right. Molly used to make them around this time at the Burrow, and she…” he caught Draco’s expression. “No. Stop. They’re fantastic. Teddy loves them, too. I’m surprised you haven’t tried them yet. We’ve celebrated quite a lot of Halloweens…”

“I haven’t even heard of them, Potter. And I hope you don't intend us _both_ to make them. I don't bake. The skillet is probably the worst muggle invention ever. You can’t get anything to bake right with that. You think it’d be like potions, but the thing has a mind of its own.”

“But what about the cupcakes? You’ve baked before in the oven, and that’s harder than a skillet. It’s just about getting the hang of it. I’ll show you…” Harry stepped over to the skillet, but Draco was already turning away from it.

“You mean the cupcake _disaster_? Right, we’re not going to have a repeat of that mistake. Practically burnt to a crisp. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Draco, no,” Harry snapped. “I asked Molly especially for this recipe because I know you love sweets and marshmallow is about as sweet as you can get. Look— I’ll do the skillet part of it. Just try it, okay? If you don’t like it we never have to make it again.”

Draco sneered. Sauntered back over to Harry. “If we can use magic, I’ll give them a try. But next time we’re making one of my mother’s recipes.”

“No magic,” Harry replied, setting the list of ingredients down on the table. “More muggle things, remember? But I have an idea you’ll like. Let’s make it a contest. Whoever can whip up the batter the fastest wins,” he smirked in spite of his earlier irritation. “You won’t turn down a competition, will you Malfoy?”

“And when I win?” Draco drawled. 

“ _If_ you win,” Harry corrected him, his eyes fixed on Draco’s pale ones. “Anything.”

And without further discussing the terms, they were off. 

Harry made a beeline for the measuring cups, ignoring Draco’s whispered, “ _Accio_!” He’d let it fly this time—but only because the spell actually helped him more, as he was the one with the cups to measure out the ingredients. 

“You can’t take all the measuring cups, Potter. There’s more than one. Give me the half cup at least,” Draco snapped, noticing only a minute too late that his cheating had actually benefitted Harry more than himself.

“You mean this one?” Harry asked, mock-innocently, holding it up. “Sorry, haven’t seen it. Maybe it got destroyed the last time you tried organizing the kitchen.”

“At least I know _how_ to organize. I don’t think I’ve seen the surface of your desk in weeks.”

“If I were you, Malfoy, I’d spent less time mocking me and more time trying to win. That’s what cost you all those games of Quidditch back at Hogwarts, too.”

Harry knew it was on now. Draco set his jaw, eyes narrowing as he snatched one of the measuring spoons and the bag of flour. 

And when Draco opened the bag a bit too quickly and was promptly covered in white powder, Harry allowed himself a smirk and had to bite his cheek to keep from commenting.

But he had a competition to win. Harry scanned the list of ingredients, wishing that he had given it more than a passing glance when Molly had first given it to him, but he supposed that would have put him at an unfair advantage, and he was going to win this without any of that. 

As it turned out, though, cooking was not one of Harry’s strong skills. He got caught up trying to break the eggs without getting any of the shells mixed in while Draco moved around him, mixing together the ingredients that Harry should’ve already finished with by now. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Draco only slowed down once he got to the last ingredient: the food colouring.

“It doesn’t say how much, Potter. As usual, the Weasels are completely inefficient. ‘Pink gel food colouring’. If this was potions, something would blow up in our faces.”

“But it’s not potions,” Harry replied, still half-distracted as he spotted an eggshell and tried (rather unsuccessfully, he might add) to scoop it out. 

“Brilliant observation, Potter.” 

The voice was much closer to his ear now, and Harry flinched for a moment when he felt Draco’s warm breath on his neck. But that momentary fear was gone when Draco’s hands covered Harry’s. _It’s just Draco._

“Let me do that. You might have been better at Quidditch, but you could never best me at potions. I’m quite proud of my precision.”

“Believe me, I know,” Harry shot back, but took a step out of the way anyway, allowing Draco to slip past him and scoop out the eggshells. He glanced back at the recipe in the meantime, scanning the amounts of each ingredient. “We didn’t plan this very well,” he said at last. We should have halved the recipe to begin with, and then started the contest. The way we did it, we’ll have twice as many pancakes as we need.”

“You never plan anything,” Draco replied.

“But _you_ always plan _everything_.”

“The minute you said the word ‘competition’, beating you at your own game seemed more important,” Draco said, but Harry knew he was smiling in spite of the defensive tone. But he continued: “We’ll give the second batch to Teddy then. You said he likes them, didn’t you?”

Harry blinked. “Er… yeah. I did.”

“There we go. Problem solved. Now, since I was the one to fish the eggshells out, I believe this belongs to me.” And with that, Draco picked up the bowl, ignoring Harry’s shout of protest.

“Cheating again, then?” Harry grumbled. He eyed Draco, watching him add the buttermilk and vanilla to the egg bowl. So maybe Draco was better at this cooking thing than he was—Harry just wasn’t going to admit it. They both knew he hadn’t excelled in potions, but it wasn’t as if he’d just sit by and let Draco win.

Grabbing three more eggs, he set about cracking them, being extra careful not to let any shells get mixed in this time.

But in the end, despite his best efforts, Harry did not finish his mix before Draco. 

“Stop gloating, you git,” Harry told him, pouring the mix into the skillet. “Or I’ll give your batch to Teddy instead of mine."  
“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh yeah? Better be careful then. And besides, you didn't really win— you cheated the whole time. It doesn't count.”

He heard Draco shuffling over to the counter, and then the unmistakable thump as he hoisted himself up on it. The recipe crinkled. 

“A cup of marshmallow fluff and a cup of mini marshmallows. Just for the frosting. That’s all we’ve got left.”

“Sounds about right.” Harry flipped the pancakes. “And since Molly was kind enough to give us this recipe, if you like it, you should thank her personally.”

“Should I, now?”

Harry didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. “Yes.”

Thankfully, Draco picked up on his tone. They were both quiet for a moment, as he let Draco choose his words. And then, “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t push it. I’m not doing it for you, Potter. I don’t even like you.”

“Course not.” 

The pancakes were done. Harry maneuvered them onto the nearby plate while Draco handed him the next batch and put frosting on the first. 

Draco always snuck a couple licks of the frosting every time there was any around, but Harry would just roll his eyes and pretend not to notice. He was sure he would do it this time, too.

Harry joined Draco on the counter, handing him his plate. “Okay, since I guess both of us lost the competition, we have to try these at the same time. That way, if it’s horrible, we both had to eat some.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “On the count of three.”

They each took a bite. 

The pancakes were _good_. Molly’s were still better, Harry decided, but that was because it was her recipe to begin with, and she was still very much like a mother to him. Nothing could beat Molly’s, but they’d still thank her anyway. 

“You’re right. They’re decent. Very sweet,” Draco said between bites, which was his way of showing his appreciation. He’d come a long way. Maybe one day, the recipe might even be ‘good’. “And nice face, Potter. You’ve got frosting all over it.”

“Back at you, Draco.”

Harry wrapped up the second batch for Teddy. He would be coming tomorrow for Halloween anyway, and what better way to start the celebration than with marshmallow pancakes?


	6. Chapter 6

“Well one of us is going to have to change,” Remus said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked away from Sirius.

Sirius. Who was now cackling with laughter over the fact that somehow, they _both_ managed to purchase and put on the exact same costume for Neville and Luna’s annual Halloween party without either of them noticing. Well, without Remus noticing at least. He couldn’t be so sure about Sirius. 

“It’s gotta be you, Remus. You can’t dress up as a werewolf for the party! It’s completely unoriginal. You’re supposed to be something that you’re not.”

Remus groaned. “Of all the things you could have been, Sirius, why on earth would you want to be a werewolf?”

“Why would you? Halloween is supposed to be a day where you dress up as something you aren’t!” Sirius’ tone told Remus that he knew _exactly_ why even without him saying it. 

But he did anyway. “It was convenient. I hardly need to dress up at all.”

“Honestly, Remus, you spend 364 days a year complaining about it and then you go out and buy a werewolf costume for the party today.”

It truly was rather ridiculous, Remus realized. Under any other circumstances, he would prefer to dress as anything but. The one day a year he could forget about his awful other form. But he had been strapped for time, and the costume had been right up there on the display. He’d purchased it more out of convenience than anything. And at the very least, he was sure someone at the party would find it amusing, even if he didn't. But now _this_. 

“I have nothing else to wear,” Remus snapped, “The party’s in less twenty minutes. We have to get going, not standing here arguing with each other. And where on Earth is Teddy?”

Sirius shrugged, “He’ll show, don't worry Remus.” To punctuate his words, he hoisted the wolf mask up and over his head, and Remus had to suppress another groan. This truly was a nightmare. He couldn't go to the party wearing the exact same costume as Sirius, it just wouldn’t do.

“Teddy?” Remus called, “Come on now, we’re going to be late. Luna and Neville are expecting all of us to be there for the dinner and party.” 

He turned to Sirius, shaking his head at the ridiculous sight of the mask and ensemble that they were both wearing. Torn plaid shirts, untucked, tan jeans, and a rubber mask that reeked of a million different chemicals to top it off. They had really picked a winning costume.

When there was no response from Teddy, Remus picked up his own mask from the kitchen table, tucking it under his arm. “Well I suppose I will have to go and change then,” he grumbled. “But into what, I haven't the faintest.”

He was just about through to the living room when Teddy burst into the kitchen, all bright-eyed and beaming, a small orange candy bucket in one hand. “Are we ready to go to the party? I’ve got something I want to give Fred and…” his gaze shifted from Remus to Sirius, and rest of the sentence never made it out of his mouth. Instead, a grin broke out on his features. “Oh, did I miss the memo? Are we _all_ going as werewolves this year?”

Remus was about to answer with a hasty ‘no’, but Sirius beat him to it with an affirmative. 

“Great! Let’s go, then!” Teddy exclaimed, and Remus watched with growing mortification as his son’s face morphed before his eyes to match the same ungodly mask that Sirius was wearing.

And before Remus could get another word in, Teddy locked arms with him and Sirius, both of whom were apparently getting a huge kick out of the whole thing, and apparated with a _crack_.


End file.
